Grenadian Incredible Journey

Do you ever get the feeling that fate, karma, God, SOMEONE, is trying to tell you something? And not only do you hear it...but you blatantly ignore it and then fret about it late into the evening? Welcome to my week. Last year around Thanksgiving I was dashing to the bus when I noticed a small, black pothound splayed out beneath the banana tree by my walkway. I was bustling away, grumbling to myself and in general making a loud ruckus. The pothound did not move. I did not have time for a dying pothound, but I stopped and waited for that telltale rise and fall of her skinny ribcage. Nothing. So creeping forward I got within a few feet of her emaciated form and she finally, weakly, lifted her head and drunkenly hauled herself away into the landscaping. Sigh...I was going to miss my bus. The rest of the week I spent cajoling her to come out of hiding and eat the sandwiches I made for her. She was a bag of bones who clearly had puppies at one time. Their hungry mouths and life on the streets, had sapped the energy and muscle from her body. I named her Clove after the hill we live on.

Soon the little scamp was following me to the bus stop, grocery store and beach. She went on large walk abouts, but in the morning she was always waiting at my screen door. Pothounds know a sucker when they see one. She rewarded my filling of her bowl with an ecstatic terrier dance and gentle nibbling of my heels. Finding a forever home for Clove began in earnest. December rolled around and I was running low on dog food, time and takers. The local humane society (GSPCA) was full and I had no idea what I was going to do with her. Through luck, poor Grenadian record keeping and sheer chance, I landed her a spot at the GSPCA, and happily boarded my plane, grateful that Clove had a roof over her head and food in her bowl.

Clove thrived in the GSPCA, and even had a litter of puppies while there. Upon my return in January I discovered she was still there. She was the demo dog for our clinical skills class, and seemed happy. The staff loved her and she was frequently set free to run through the paw paw and mango trees behind the shelter. Two weeks ago I was overjoyed to hear Clove was adopted. As happy as she was at the GSPCA, she deserved a home. Clove's journey was complete.

Fast forward to three days ago. Once again I am leaving my apartment to catch the bus. I'm in between rain showers and hoping the bus arrives before the sky unleashes. Slipping down the road in my flip flops I look up to see a small, black, raggedy dog walking up the hill. Clove had returned. Collarless and with a few hitchhiking ticks, the little dog plopped herself at my feet and gave a feeble tail wag. The sky opened up while I sat with the little, black dog in the middle of the road and called the GSPCA. Clove had been adopted by a nice local man who lived out by the airport a couple weeks earlier. According to the GSPCA he took good care of his dogs, and used them to go hunt oppossum and armadillos in the woods. A week earlier he had come into the GSPCA to report that Clove had gone missing. It took her a week, but eventually she traversed several miles, through unfamiliar territory, to find her way back to my apartment.

So there I sat, being soaked by the rain, inevitably late for class with a grumpy professor, and a little black, ridiculously ugly pothound who was gazing at me with melted chocolate eyes. "I'm not keeping you," I kept repeating. "Absolutely not." So was it an amazing journey? Yes. This little dog was far from her stomping grounds for over three months, and then was moved to an unfamiliar part of the island...and STILL managed to find her way back to my door. The stars were aligned. But I did not listen. Fifteen minutes later, Clove was back on her way with one of the friendly doctors from the GSPCA.

I did whisper to her, "Third times the charm". If that happens, Inca may have to consign herself to being seen with a very ugly, Grenadian pothound. I can only ignore the signs for so long right?

Map of Clove's Journey. The red dot to the far left is her new home. The red dot towards the right is my home...and further north and up is the GSPCA.